The Search for a Cinder Block

He called for a cinder block
and left me
with a poem about a
lad who built pink rabbits,
leaving them
alone out in the fields,
or welded to the sides
of school buildings,
a lad who flirts with the law,
laughing as he disappears
into the darkness.

Photo courtesy of http://www.flickr.com/photos/rolsen/3602238583/